Valkyn:the Lost Knight
by Artemis Darkclaw
Summary: Valkyn is one of the Sarmatians taken by the Romans to serve in the military as a knight but he never becomes one. Instead he becomes the best assassin of the time...often employed by Rome to do her dirty work. After completing a mission for Rome Valkyn i
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

Valkyn had made a long journey to Britain, all the way from Rome. It had taken him the better part of two months, traveling most of the way by ship until reaching Britain and the rest of the way on the back of his black stallion, Arion.

Valkyn recalled the meeting that had led him to this long journey. He had been in Rome, doing a job for the Roman government. It appeared that there was a man in Rome who was preaching about equality and justice for all. Valkyn smiled sardonically at the memory. _Couldn't have that now could we_? He thought. This man had been a source of trouble and when they government tried to arrest him he had gone into hiding. And he had hidden well apparently, for the soldiers could not find him no matter how hard they tried. So they had employed a specialist in the hunting of men, the best money could buy... Valkyn. And it didn't take long for Valkyn to find the man.

Valkyn recalled how the man had tried to appeal to him not to turn him over to the Romans.

------

"Surely you must realize that the Romans are corrupt? They have no sense of justice, the rich are the only ones who matter to them." Pelagius said.

"Of course. But why should that bother me? They pay me to do my job, and pay very well. And the dog that bites the hand that feeds it is not very wise, now is it?" Valkyn replied

"But how can you sit and watch others suffer unfairly?" the old man asked.

"Quite easily, old man. Your pleas fall upon deaf ears I'm afraid." came the laconic reply.

"You're not from Rome are you, my son? Your accent betrays you, as does your dress." Pelagius said suddenly.

Valkyn did not immediately reply, this was not an area he liked to discuss. And so the old man continued, knowing he had hit upon something, though not quite sure of what.

"Tell me, were you a slave? Are you from one of the conquered provinces? How do you come to be in Rome of all places? What did you leave behind? A family? A wife perhaps?" the old man could tell he'd struck a nerve with those last few questions.

Valkyn's green eyes clouded for a moment with sorrow, pain, and grief. But it was only a momentary lapse, he face resumed its bland expression almost immediately and his eyes hardened.

"Yes, old man, I am from another country. A land far from this cursed hell you Romans call home. No, I was never a slave. I was taken from Sarmatia long ago, to serve in the military. But my… _talents_… were soon recognized and I was trained for more…specialized purposes." Valkyn replied his accent becoming more noticeable with his anger. "I have no family, no wife…the only thing I left behind was the land that I loved. A land which I will never see again. Now come, old man, the soldiers are waiting…"

------

"Well done, knight. Rome thanks you for your great service." the Roman commander said.

"I'm no knight, Commander." Valkyn replied evenly. "And Rome can keep her thanks, I'll take the gold."

"Not a knight? But you are a Sarmatian, are you not?" the commander asked, ignoring the second half of Valkyn's statement.

"I am. But I never became a knight, Rome found my talents were suited for something else entirely. Now about the gold?" Valkyn replied.

The commander laughed. "Ahh, yes. You Sarmatians are all so touchy about what a knight really is. You most certainly do not fit the criteria." And he laughed again; it was not a pleasant sound, like rocks grating together.

"The gold, Commander? I'd like my payment so I can be on my way. I have other jobs to do, like finding a new employer for instance." Valkyn said coldly, the commander was beginning to really annoy him.

"Right, right. I forgot they were actually paying you for this. Normally Rome expects her citizens to serve without thought of reward." grumbled the commander, reluctant to give up the gold.

"I'm no citizen of Rome, Commander. And my services come at a high price." Valkyn replied as he took the gold.

He had just stepped out the door when a well-dressed servant stepped into his path.

"Domine Valkyn?" the man inquired and receiving an affirmative he continued. "Please, follow me, Domine. My Dominus wishes to speak with you on matters of business."

And so Valkyn followed the servant to a villa near the base of the Aventine Hill. They entered by a back gate into a garden, it was dark and Valkyn could see little. The man left him in a small gazebo at the center of the garden, telling him that his master would soon be there.

In the space of a few moments Valkyn was greeted by a richly dressed Roman noble.

" May God's grace shine upon you, Valkyn." he said in a silky voice.

"You realize I'm a pagan, sir. I have no belief in your God, Roman. Now your man said you wished to talk business." Valkyn replied cuttingly.

"Of course. I like a man who cuts to the chase. Yes, I require your services."

"Who is it you want taken care of? Any particular way you want it done? And of course there is the matter of my fee," Valkyn said with a slight smile.

"Yes, yes. Do not worry, you will be well paid. The man I want taken care of is a commander…in Britain," said the Roman, watching Valkyn closely for a reaction. But if the Sarmatian cared about going to Britain he showed no sign of it.

"That is a long journey, he must be very dangerous if he is troubling you from such a far distance." Valkyn replied simply, face expressionless.

"Yes, he was once the student of the man you just captured and will soon be returning to Rome once his term of duty is up." The Roman did not continue, hoping to leave it at that. Valkyn, however, had no such intentions.

"You do not expect me to believe that you wish to employ me for the cause of selflessly serving Rome do you? You have some motive private to yourself."

"Yes…He is to be sent on one last mission by the Pope. There is a boy in Britain, the favorite godchild of the Pope. The Pope wishes that this boy be brought back to Rome, to possibly succeed him as Pope. But he must never make it to Rome…" the Roman replied reluctantly.

"Why not just have me kill the boy?" Valkyn asked quietly.

"Because if the boy were to be harmed the Pope would have an investigation and I can not have an investigation. So you must kill the man who is to return the boy to Rome."

"And how will this accomplish your purpose, would Rome not simply send another man to retrieve the boy?" Valkyn asked, slightly perplexed at the Roman's logic.

"No, Rome will not send another man. The Saxons are invading Britain, if the commander is killed before he retrieves the boy, the Saxons will kill the boy and the Pope will have nothing to investigate."

"And why worry about it at all then, won't the Saxons get rid of them all for you? Why go to the trouble, it sounds as though this commander has been set an impossible task."

"You do not know who this commander is!" exclaimed the Roman.

"You're right, I don't but I assume you are going to tell me." Valkyn replied laconically.

"His name is Artorius, Arthur to the Britons. He and his band of Sarmatian knights have accomplished many impossible things. He is not a man to be underestimated. If Rome sets him a task he will do it. That is why I need you. It is said that you have no equal."

"Arthur…and a band of Sarmatian knights…I see. How much will you pay?" Valkyn said with a sardonic smile.

"Twelve bags of gold, and one in advance to cover travel expenses." The Roman answered quickly.

"Quite a sum…quite a sum. Give me the first bag, I'll leave in the morning." Valkyn said.

"Wonderful! I shall book you passage on the first ship leaving for Britain." The Roman replied, tossing Valkyn the bag.

Valkyn caught it deftly and replied, "Make sure they have plenty of room for my horse!" Then he walked away into the darkness, disappearing as he headed for the gate.

5


	2. Chapter 2

Okay this is my first Fanfic so try not to be too harsh…and ofcourse I'm sure you all know that none of the characters are really mine except Valkyn…and the mysterious noble. Anyway I hope you enjoy the story, please R&R.

**Chapter 2**

It was no mere chance that Valkyn was on a hill overlooking the road that day. He dismounted and tied Arion to a bush and settled down to watch. The morning air was cool and the mist rose from the ground in shrouds, tendrils push about by the breeze. So it was that he saw the woads set up their ambush, the carriage and its guards approaching on the road, and the seven riders that watched it.

He guessed that the man on the gray at the center was Arthur, as he was the only one wearing any Roman garb. The other six men were his Sarmatian knights. _My kin_, Valkyn thought suddenly but quickly shook off the idea. He had no kin, no friends, and he wanted none. Attachments were a form of weakness, a way your enemies could hurt you, and Valkyn could not afford them. He had Arion and that was enough.

That Arthur and his knights did know the woads were there was clear. They were too at easy to know there was trouble nearby. Valkyn could also surmise that the woads were unaware of the knights, for they were too focused on the approaching caravan.

All of a sudden an arrow came out of the trees and lodged itself in a Roman's chest. Then the woads charged, and Valkyn saw that they far outnumbered the Romans. Arthur and his knights charged down from the knoll to engage the woads. Just what Valkyn had been waiting for. He walked over to Arion and pulled out his bow and arrows from their scabbard on the saddle. Then he walked back to his position on the forward crest of the hill. He chose his arrow carefully, gauging it for balance. He wanted to be sure it flew true. Then he drew the arrow across the bow and pulled back the string. And with his right hand locked against his ear he sighted down the shaft.

His eagle eyes picked out a mark on Arthur at the base of his neck and then he let fly. His aim was true…unfortunately Arthur chose that moment to leap from his horse onto two woads. The arrow thudded into the chest of a woad sneaking up on Arthur's back.

Valkyn stared a moment, his bland expression unchanged, then shrugged and smiled coldly. How ironic that the man sent to kill him was by a twist of fate protecting him.

"Well, there never was much I enjoyed about killing from a distance anyway," Valkyn said to himself. And so he settled back to watch the battle. He soon noticed another woad sneaking up on Arthur who was preoccupied by several others. Picking up his bow, Valkyn put an well-aimed bolt through the woad's throat. Then he proceeded to even out the odds for the knights a little bit since they were so horribly outnumbered. He was just beginning to enjoy himself when the woads suddenly stopped fighting and retreated into the forest.

Sighing with regret, Valkyn put away his bow. He was looking forward to meeting this Arthur; he fought well. Another one of the knights had also caught his interest; a dark-haired one that seemed to be quite the swordsman with his curved blade. It would be an interesting fight, thought Valkyn as he mounted Arion. He had not had an interesting fight in a long time, a very long time.

-------

After the woads retreated, Arthur looked over at Tristan, who was wiping the blood from his curved blade on the wet grass.

"Thanks for watching my back, Tristan." Arthur called to the dark knight. Tristan looked up in surprise at his words.

"What do you mean, Arthur?" he asked.

"Didn't you shoot those woads that were sneaking up on me?" Arthur asked, gesturing towards the bodies with Excalibur. Tristan did not say anything for a moment, and then he walked over a close look at the shaft protruding from one of the dead woads' chest.

"That's not my arrow, Arthur. None of them are," Tristan replied quietly, gesturing widely with one hand. It was then that Arthur noticed how many woads had been slain by the same type of arrow. Whoever this mysterious archer was, he was very skilled. Arthur thought with a slight twinge. Arthur walked over and pulled the arrow out of the body and looked closely at it, then handed it to Tristan.

"What do you think?" he asked.

"Strange, very strange," said Tristan, gazing intently at the arrow. Then he scanned the horizon, looking for something but not sure what.

"What's strange about it, Tristan? Other than it didn't come from us or the woads?" Arthur inquired again.

"It's of Sarmatian make. The design isn't traditional but it was definitely made by a Sarmatian hand. What really has me confused is the fletching…" Tristan replied, still intently scanning the forest.

"What about it?"

"It's black…Sarmatians don't use black fletching. It's like this arrow is some sort of message or …calling card." Tristan said.

"And you're sure it's Sarmatian?" Arthur asked in slight disbelief.

"I am sure." Tristan said firmly, annoyed at Arthur's lack of trust in his knowledge, though he didn't show it.

"Then where did it come from?" Arthur wondered aloud as he started off in the direction of the carriage.

"I wish I knew," said Tristan, softly as he gazed at the surrounding forest and hills. "I wish I knew."

6


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: see earlier chapters, though I added a few characters. Blah. Blah. Sorry I take so long to update. Enjoy, please R&R.

Chapter 3

Valkyn could feel the eyes of the Woads upon as he rode. He smiled to himself, they thought they were going to surprise him but it they who were in for a surprise. Valkyn slowed Arion to a walk the edge of a clearing. The forest was deathly quiet. He halted in the middle of the open space, for several moments he sat in silence. Without warning he flicked a knife from his wrist into the undergrowth, there was a gurgle and a blue painted body fell out of the bush. At once the clearing exploded into cries from furious Woads and a party of twenty emerged from the trees.

Valkyn dismounted, and waited for the attack. Five came at him at once. He drew his sword from the scabbard across his back and cut them down in a series of movements. The other Woads approached with caution, spreading out to get behind him. Those seeking to get behind him encountered the ferocious Arion. The black stallion's eyes blazed as he kicked, bit, and trampled all within his reach. Valkyn focused on the Woads in front of him, trusting Arion to guard his back.

No emotion entered into Valkyn's dance of death. He fought with a cold precision that terrified his opponents. Darting under one Woad's guard he slashed open his stomach, moving into a swift upswing to block another's sword. He dodged yet another's with a quick side step. He felt his blade catch in the body of a falling Woad. Rather than waste precious seconds pulling it out, Valkyn let the sword go. He ducked a swing at his head and grabbed the man's wrist. A quick jerk brought the man off balance and Valkyn slit his throat with his dirk as he fell. Valkyn dropped to the ground as another Woad swung at his torso. He kicked out his feet, breaking the Woads knees and sending him down onto his own sword. He parried a blow aimed for his neck while lying on his back. Then grabbing the Woad's arms, he used his feet to flip her over top of him and crashing into three of her fellows. He used the brief reprieve to leap to his feet and jerk his sword form the corpse that held it.

Valkyn danced in and out of reach, never in the place his enemy expected his to be, his blade a blur. When it was over Valkyn stood unscathed in a circle of blue painted bodies. Arion snorted from the clearings edge where he had just trampled the last Woad as he tried to escape. Valkyn stepped over the blood-soaked ground to a clean grassy area and knelt down to clean his blade. When he finished he looked up at Arion as he sheathed the blade.

"Well done, brother. Well done," Valkyn said, scratching the stallion's ears. He patted Arion on the neck and then checked him for wounds, finding none he swung into the saddle.

"Come we must hurry if we're to make the Wall before nightfall."

----

Cathaír watched from the Wall as Arthur and the caravan approached. This day brings us our freedom, he thought suddenly. For so long they had fought and died here, freedom had seemed a dream they would never reach. But now it was within their grasp, Cathaír could hardly believe it. He felt a rush of energy run through his body and on impulse he yelled out the Sarmatian battle cry.

"RUS!" His yell was answered by Bors from below. Cathaír leapt down from his perch and ran down towards the knights' barracks to tell the others that their freedom had finally arrived. He found Adrian and Balder at the practice grounds sparring, while the twins, Bran and Bres, watched.

"Arthur returns with the bishop! Our day of freedom has come at last!" Cathaír cried. Adrian and Balder stopped sparring long enough to grin at the younger knights. The twins joined Cathaír's quest to inform the rest of the knights. They found Gavin engaged in a game of dice with a Roman, and from the sour look on the Roman's face Gavin was winning.

"Have you seen Tyr, Gavin?" Bran asked.

"He's in the stable with Aeolus, I think," Gavin said without looking up from the game.

"Arthur's back," Bres said.

"That's nice," Gavin replied, still absorbed in the game.

"With the Bishop," Bran continued.

"Great, another arrogant Roman to annoy me."

"And our freedom," Cathaír added.

"Wonderful. Now will the three of you please leave me in peace. This game requires a lot of concentration, you know."

Cathaír and the twins exchanged glances and shrugs then sped off to find Tyr. They reached the stable only to find it empty; Tyr had taken Aeolus out for a ride. Since they were there however they decided to ride out to meet the returning knights. Quickly throwing the tack onto their mounts they galloped out of the barn and raced for the gate.

----

Tristan watched as three horseman exploded out of the gate and raced towards them at full gallop. He immediately recognized the three youngest knights, Cathaír and the twins. Dismissing them for the moment he returned his attention to Gawain, Galahad, and Bors.

"I don't kill for pleasure," Galahad replied to Bors scathingly. "Unlike some."

"You should try it sometime. You might develop a taste for it," Tristan said, causing Galahad to glance at him and rein his horse away in disgust.

"Yeeha!" screamed the twins as they pulled their mounts to a screeching halt, barely avoiding a collision with Gawain.

"Why don't you yahoos watch where you're going?" Gawain said with a grin.

Tristan glanced over as Cathaír turned his mare, Fionúir, and brought her alongside Passebreul.

"You all have any trouble?" he asked.

"A few Woads." Tristan replied. '_And something else_,' he thought recalling the mysterious arrows.

They both looked over as Bors asked Lancelot about what he was going to do with his freedom.

"What about you, Lancelot, what are your plans for home?"

"Well, if this woman of Gawain's is as beautiful as he claims I expect I'll be spending a lot of time at Gawain's house. His wife will welcome the company."

"And what will I be doing?" Gawain asked skeptically.

"Wondering why it's your good fortune that all your children look like me," Lance replied with his trademark grin, riding forward to join Arthur.

"Is that before or after I hit you with my axe?" Gawain asked amid the laughter of the others.

Tristan lifted his arm as his hawk, Keeva, swooped down to land.

"Where you been, eh? Where you been?" he asked, tapping her under the chin. He smiled when she screeched at him.

"Do you ever wonder what it would be like to be a bird, Tristan? To be able to fly above the land and see for miles?" Cathaír asked.

"To soar above the clouds as Keeva does, that is true freedom. A freedom which men shall never know." Tristan replied as they road under the wall.

-----

Later that night they were all gathered outside the tavern celebrating their freedom. Tristan watched from a corner, silently brooding over the day's battle. Something about the arrows and the unseen archer bothered him, and it wasn't just that he remained elusive. Tristan couldn't quite put his finger on it but it was almost as if they were familiar in someway. He decided to put it aside for the moment; there was no sense in worrying over something he had no control over. He picked up his ale and settled down to watch the others enjoy themselves.

Lancelot was gambling with some Romans, while Adrian and Balder foolishly engaged Gavin in a game of dice. Cathaír was singing, the only knight with a fine voice, he loved to sing. Tristan watched with amusement as the intoxicated Bran and Bres joined Cathaír in song, effectively slaughtering his tune. Gawain and Galahad had begun a knife throwing contest. Both missed the center, though Galahad's was closer. On impulse Tristan withdrew his own knife and flicked it at the target. To the other knight's astonishment it buried itself in the hilt of Galahad's.

"Tristan," Gawain sighed with slight annoyance. "How do you do that?"

"I aim for the middle," Tristan replied, pointing at the space between the two knives.

Tristan he just sat retrieved his knife and sat down when Tyr came in.

"Tyr, where you been? Arthur asked for you earlier, he wasn't happy you weren't there for the Bishop's ceremony…even though the Bishop sent us all out," Adrian called.

"Mind your own business, Adrian," Tyr replied scathingly. Try took a seat by Tristan, his face grim.

"I took Aeolus for a short scouting trip outside the Wall. I ran into some Woads…they were all dead." Tyr said.

"Romans?" Tristan queried.

"It was one man. What's more he has a horse, a war-horse, like ours, except it fights on its own. From the tracks, it even runs enemies down as they try to retreat. I would have said a knight but it wasn't one of us. And I'm not so sure any of us could take on twenty Woads single- handed and walk away without a scratch."

Tristan received Tyr's information in silence then told him of the mysterious archer.

"Looks like we're going to have to keep an eye out for this stranger." Tyr said. Tristan nodded in agreement, watching Bors drag Vanora out into the middle of the tables and demand for her to sing. The knights all went quiet as Vanora sang of home; they listened with varying degrees of emotion on their faces. For now that they were finally free, home took on a whole new meaning.

Tristan noticed Arthur at the edge of the crowd watching the knights with a sad, conflicted look on his face. He was about to turn away when Jols spotted him.

"Arthur!"

The knights gathered around their commander, wanting him to join the celebration.

"Knights, brothers in arms, your courage has been tested beyond limits but I must ask you now for one further trial."

"Drink?" said Bors causing the others to chuckle.

"We must leave on a final mission for Rome before our freedom can be granted." The knights laughed, some started to walk away, sure that Arthur was jesting. Tristan was not so sure; he didn't like the look he had seen on Arthur's face earlier.

"Above the Wall, far in the north there is a Roman family in need of rescue. They are trapped by Saxons. Our orders are to secure their safety," Arthur continued, dispelling all thoughts of jest.

"Let the Romans take care of their own," Bors said.

"Above the wall is Woad territory," Gawain added.

"Our duty to Rome, if it ever was a duty, is done. Our pact with Rome is done!" said Galahad in anger.

"Saxons and Woads! What are the Romans trying to kill us to avoid giving us our freedom! This is crazy, it's suicide!" cried Balder.

"Every knight here has laid his life on the line for you. For you. And now instead of freedom you want more blood, our blood? You think more of Roman blood than you do of ours!" Bors exploded.

"Bors, these are our orders. We leave at first light and when we return your freedom will be waiting for you. A freedom we can embrace with honor –" Arthur began.

"I am a free man! I will choose my own fate!" Bors yelled, walking away.

"Yeah, yeah, we're all going to die sometime. If it's a death from a Saxon hand that frightens you, stay home." Tristan said.

"Well if you're so eager to die, you can die right here!" cried Galahad lunging for Tristan.

"Enough, enough!" said Lancelot as he and Cathaír intercepted Galahad.

"I for one have something to live for!" Galahad continued, raging now at Arthur.

"The Romans have broken their word. We have the word of Arthur, that is enough. I'll prepare." Dagonet said calmly, putting an end to the argument.

"Aye, Dagonet's right," Adrian said following Dag to pack.

Dag paused as he passed Bors. "Bors, you coming?"

"Of course I'm coming. Can't let you go on your own, you'll all get killed." Bors answered, and then yelled back to the others. "I'm just saying what you're all thinking!"

Arthur looked around at his remaining knights.

"Don't worry about Bors, Arthur; he'll be alright once he has a couple of ales. I'm with you." Gavin said.

"Us too," the twins chimed in drunken unison.

"And you, Gawain?" Arthur asked as Gavin and the twins left.

"I'm with you," he replied. He glanced at Galahad. "Galahad as well."

Galahad glared at his friend, then dumped out his wine and smashed the jug at Arthur's feet before stalking away.

"Balder?"

"Well, we don't have much choice do we?" Balder replied with barely controlled rage. He turned on his heel and followed Galahad and Gawain.

Tyr nodded and left, leaving only Lancelot and Cathaír.

"You know my answer, Arthur." Cathaír said, fixing Arthur with a piercing stare, his blue eyes revealing nothing. Then a slight smile broke upon his lips. "I'll be ready."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Valkyn and Arion reached the wall just as the caravan entered the fort. He rode Arion up a tall hill that overlooked the compound, at the top he hid Arion in the trees and cautiously made his way to the peak. There he observed the layout and activities of its inhabitants for several hours, integrating the information into his memory. Once he had calculated the positions of the Roman barracks, knights' quarters, and civilian habitations; along with the guard schedule and the habits of those inside he made his way back to Arion.

He led the stallion back down the hill and through the forest until they were very close to the wall. Then he found a secluded alcove to make a cold camp and for Arion to wait in. When darkness fell, Valkyn was ready to complete his mission.

"Wait here, my friend. I shall call for you when I have finished. We shall no doubt be pursued by the surviving knights, so be prepared." The Sarmatian told the stallion. Arion nickered his understanding, but nudged his master with his great muzzle, his black eyes full of worry.

"Do not fret, Wind Spirit mine. I shall return to you soon." Valkyn reassured him softly. Then he picked up his special bow, made to launch a lightweight hook with a lightweight line and headed for the wall. The assassin's black leather armor and dark gray clothing made him almost imperceptible in the dark night. The careless Roman guards could not have spotted his wraith-like movements even if there had been a moon. Once he reached the wall he waited for the first guard to pass by on his patrol before shooting the hook over the wall. Then he pulled back on the line until the hook set, when he was sure it would not come loose he scaled the wall as quickly as a squirrel up a tree. In a matter of seconds he had reached the top of the wall and coiled the rope and attached it to his belt.

Knowing the next guard was due any minute he swiftly descended the rampart stairs and hid in the shadows cast by the knights' stables. Once the Roman was safely past Valkyn slipped around to the front of the stables. He was about to set off across the compound when he spotted a man coming his way. With no where else to go, Valkyn slipped through the barn door and into one the stalls.

Valkyn found himself face to face with a huge gray stallion. The stallion snorted and prepared to strike the intruder when Valkyn spoke quietly to him.

"Whoa, brother, do not be afraid. I need only to borrow your stall for a moment." The stallion flicked his ears at the words, suddenly unsure. He did not recognize the scent of the man in front of him but the voice was familiar. The horse paused to take in a deep whiff of Valkyn's smell, which only furthered his confusion. He could tell it was not the same but both the scent and the voice were similar to that of his master. "That's it, boy." Valkyn whispered, stroking the thick neck and scratching the gray ears in an effort to keep the horse quiet. The assassin then hid behind the massive gray body as the man he had seen entered the stable.

Valkyn could not believe his luck when realized the man was Arthur. He had thought he would have to search for the Commander but fortune had brought the man right to him. Valkyn held his breath as Arthur walked across the stable and picked up his saddle. Half way to the hitching rail Arthur paused and suddenly threw the saddle back on the rack in anger. Then he lean heavily on the rail in front of him and began speaking, it took Valkyn a moment to realize that he was talking to someone else.

"Oh Merciful God, I have such need of your mercy now. Not for myself but for my knights, for now is truly their hour of need." Valkyn was about to step out and announce his presence when another knight quietly entered the barn. Arthur, with his back to the door, did not notice and continued his prayer.

"Deliver them from the trial ahead…" Valkyn lost track of the monologue as he tried to keep the gray quiet and stay out of sight as the other knight walked right past the stall. The second knight was tall and striking with curly black hair and a close cropped beard. Valkyn noticed he had a sword at his side while Arthur, on the other hand, was unarmed.

"Why do you always talk to God and not to me?" the knight asked suddenly, causing Arthur to whirl in surprise. "Pray. Pray to whomever you wish that we don't cross the Saxons," the curly haired knight continued with great scorn.

"My faith is what protects me, Lancelot. Why do you challenge this?" Arthur asked softly.

"I don't like anything that puts a man on his knees," replied Lancelot, proudly as he leaned on the rail to Arthur's right.

'_Well said my friend_.' Valkyn thought.

"No man fears to kneel before the god he trusts. Without faith, without belief in something, what are we?" Arthur asked.

'_Me._' Valkyn answered to himself.

"To get past the Woads in the North is insanity!" Lancelot cried angrily.

"Them we've fought before –"

"Not north of the wall!" shouted Lance vehemently, striding around in front of Arthur. "How many Saxons? Hmm?" he asked arching his eyebrow. "How many!"

Valkyn held his breath as the gray stallion nickered at the knights but they were too preoccupied to notice. He again lost track of the conversation while he clamed the horse. When his attention returned to the knights Arthur seemed to be winning the argument.

"How many times have we snatched victory from the jaws of defeat? Outnumbered, outflanked, yet still we triumph?" Arthur asked intently, leaning on the rail as he tried to persuade his argumentative knight. "With you at my side we can do so again. Lancelot, we are knights. What other purpose do we serve if not for such a cause?"

Lancelot shook his head sadly before replying.

"Arthur you fight for a world that will never exist. Never! There will always be a battlefield." He said as he stood and walked to the rail. "I will die in battle, of that I'm certain, and hopefully a battle of my own choosing. But if it be this one, grant me one favor. Don't bury me in our sad little cemetery, burn me. Burn me and cast my ashes to a strong east wind." Then he walked out leaving Arthur alone.

Arthur let out a loud sigh as he leaned on the rail in front of him, his head bowed.

"You don't want to take them on this mission, do you Arthur?" Valkyn said softly.

Arthur half turned to see a man emerge from Passebruel's stall. Since he was in shadow, Arthur could not see his face. The voice was accented, familiar, but not quite right. Though since he was in Passebreul's stall he assumed it was Tristan and his overtaxed mind skipped over the reference to "them". He turned back to the rail and let out another sigh before replying.

"It is not my wish that my knights should be sent on a suicide mission in order to gain their well earned freedom. I know that Bishop Germanus has no right to ask this of them but I cannot see any other way for them to leave this island. Nor can I in good conscience leave that family to die on Saxon blades. I could not face God knowing that I had done so."

"It is my experience that gods do not concern themselves with the fate of mortals. A man must depend on himself and himself alone for survival and success. This is a world of men, not gods. And in it all the good and all the evil springs from men. I take comfort from a good blade at my side and a good horse beneath me. I shall need nor ask for more." Arthur turned at that but Valkyn continued before he could speak. "I heard what you told Lancelot, I do not need a lecture on gods and faith. Believe in what you will, Arthur."

"It is not my purpose to lecture." Arthur said. "I will leave you and Passebreul to prepare for the morrow.

"Passebreul," Valkyn repeated faintly. The name struck open a floodgate of repressed memories that engulfed him.

-----

Valkyn stood in a grassy field, around him trotted a huge gray stallion and on his back rode a five year old boy. The boy's black hair waved in the breeze and his dark eyes shone with pride as he rode his brother's horse.

"Keep your heels down!" Valkyn told his little brother, smiling to himself. His brother was a natural rider but sometimes his mind wandered from what he was doing. It was up to Valkyn to keep him on task.

"Can I canter, Valkyn? Please?" the little boy asked eagerly.

"If you keep your heels down and don't let Passabruel take of like last time," Valkyn replied sternly.

----

The memory faded almost as swiftly as it had come. When Valkyn came to his senses he realized that Arthur had left. Cursing himself, Valkyn, left the barn and exited the fort as stealthily as he had entered. He would have to pursue the knights on the morrow; he was in no condition to finish the job tonight.


End file.
